With My Life
by The Steppy One
Summary: Revenge is best served cold, and with meticulous planning, along with the ability to improvise. With repercussions from the war about to turn Ron and Hermione's world upside down, can their relationship and trust in each other survive anything? R/Hr
1. 1: Prologue

**Well, Hi!**

**No, I haven't fallen off the face of the planet, nor have I gone to live in my own little world. Two trips to the US and a wedding have been keeping me busy, along with overtime at work. Before I introduce this fic, I just want to say that I haven't forgotten about 'Searching', it's just that the fic is about to take a brand new turn and I want to get it right. I have not in any way forgotten about it, it's just taking a long time to get the next bit right in my head before I even try and get it down on my 'puter. Apologies, but hopefully this fic will entertain you instead.**

**I've been writing this for, I think, nearly a year, on and off which is why it's taken me this long to get it posted. I'm stepping into the 'many Original Character' territory, which is exciting but a little scary. If you're not a fan of OCs then, well, where's your imagination? Don't worry though, there will be plenty of Ron and Hermione in this fic, it being centred around them and all! (As ever!)**

**Think that's it. 6 chapters are written after this but they need to be beta'd so they won't be following too quickly. Any and all constructive feedback is welcome. Hope you enjoy! :D**

**Step ;)**

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**Chapter 1 – With my Life**

...

To have complete trust in someone is one of the most precious things you can possess. It is the easiest thing to say, but is overused and thrown around haphazardly, much like 'I love you', and 'I'm sorry'. How many people can actually say to someone 'I trust you implicitly' and even take it so far as to say 'I trust you with my life'?

But with trust comes responsibility. If someone has complete trust in you, it is up to you to make sure that their trust is not misplaced, because when someone trusts you, they will not question a request, a thought or an action. They will follow you anywhere if you ask them to. Why? Because they trust you.

When it comes to family though, another factor is thrown in: love. Not only has a basic trust always been present between family members, an unconditional love adds a complication. A family member would never hurt you. We trust them with our lives.

It's not only family members who have this added complication of love. Friends who have fought through all kinds of challenges, who have come through them fiercer friends than before have that same kind of bond, as do couples who have grown to know each other and accepted the way they feel about each other. Love grows from trust; if trust is undermined or taken advantage of, then love is easily destroyed.

How would we feel if the trust someone had in us were being used for another's gain? How would we feel when we found out we had betrayed someone's trust? And, more importantly, how would they feel when they found out the same? Hopefully things like that would never happen.

Trust is a powerful thing. A very powerful thing.

…oooOOOooo…

The room was dark and cold. A draught flowed around his ankles and up his trouser legs. His natural instincts tried to move his legs away from the cold, but the ropes binding them to the chair legs prevented him from doing so.

He shivered and winced as his movements caused his raw wrists to move against his bonds, the friction adding to the previous burns he had unknowingly given himself. His head hung forward and his eyes were closed. He didn't think there was much point in keeping them open, as there was no light to see by. The cloud cover beat the moonlight and the solitary candle that stood in the corner of the room had burned out hours ago.

He had spent those hours, and the ones that had been lit by the single candle, trying to figure out what they wanted with him. He didn't even know who they were. He had never seen the markings, which were tattooed into the palm of his binder's hand, but they weren't necessarily a group identity.

He had had his eyes shut for five minutes when the sound of the door banging open made him jump in his seat. Again his raw wrists rubbed against his bonds, but he didn't notice as his blood stream was flooded with adrenaline and his heart was pounding in his ears.

He looked up and saw two people flank either side of the door, guarding it in case he tried to escape.

'I'd be ready for me lads, I'm just about to break out of my bonds and then I intend to run out the door.'

He sniggered at his own comment. He was pleased to see his sense of humour hadn't deserted him, although he knew it was the fighter in him that refused to let them see how much he was hurting, and how much he actually feared what was happening to him.

The larger of the two men walked towards him and raised his hand. He closed his eyes as the back of the man's hand met the right side of his jaw. His head snapped sideways from the force of the blow and he left his head in the position it had ended up in.

'Was that absolutely necessary?' he asked, once he had determined his jaw had not been broken.

The man walked back to the door without saying a word.

A minute later, the door opened again and the flame light in the corridor silhouetted another figure.

The figure was shorter than the two thugs guarding the door and was cloaked with the hood pulled up. The door closed behind the person and they pulled their hood down.

He looked up at the person and realised it was a witch. Her hair was straight and black and was cut to the length of her jaw. There was a scarlet streak in it, which was in the hair above her ear, and where it settled on her jaw, a tattoo snaked its way down her neck and disappeared under her robes. He recognised the markings as the same as the ones he had seen earlier on the palm of his binder. So it was a group identity, it was just a shame he had no idea which group it was.

She was dressed in black. Tight trousers covered her legs, and a black bodice showed off her figure, drawing in at her waist and pushing her breasts up so they were on display and obvious, even to those who were trying to ignore them.

Heavy boots covered her feet and he could see that metal covered the toes. He frowned when he noticed they were smeared with something. His gut instinct told him it wasn't mud that had splattered them.

He brought his heavy head up higher so he could look at her eyes. She hadn't moved since she had stopped directly in front of him, as if wanting him to take notice of her appearance before she spoke.

He took the sight of her in. She couldn't have been more than twenty-five years old, yet it was obvious she held authority over the other people here.

'Leave us,' she stated, her tone leaving no room for argument.

The two behind her turned and left the room, closing and locking the door behind them. She waved her wand and conjured candles around the edge of the room.

'Well, Mister Clark, how has your stay been thus far? I trust my men have given you a most warm welcome.'

The smile on her face looked innocent enough and matched the sweet tone she had used to address her prisoner.

'Oh, yes, very comfortable thank you,' Clark replied. 'If it weren't for the ropes which seem to be charmed to get tighter the more I struggle, it would be perfect. Oh, and if you could just ask the one who tried in earnest to shatter my jaw, if he wishes to do it again, could he please try it on the other side, so to even out the pain, it would be much appreciated, thank you.'

He returned her sweet smile even though the skin on the right side of his face protested.

'I think that can be arranged, Mister Clark.'

She slowly circled him; her steps were slow as if she were positioning each one in a specific place. As she passed him, he caught the scent she was wearing. It was sweet, and, in any other situation, would have caught his attention, but she already had that. He let his head follow her round as she walked clockwise around his chair, but as she walked out of his sight he didn't turn his head to watch her walk back in front of him.

It caught him by surprise, therefore, when she straddled him and placed both her hands on his shoulders. He kept his head where it was, refusing to join her in her game.

'It's very rude to ignore me, Mister Clark. Did your filthy muggle parents teach you no manners at all? Tut tut!'

She trailed a finger down the left side of his face. 'Look at me,' she demanded in a calm, but firm voice.

He turned his head towards her, but looked resolutely at his thigh. She sat down on his lap, still he did not move his gaze.

'No, no, no,' she said in a calm whisper. 'I said look at me!'

She grabbed his hair and pulled his head back so he had no choice but to look her directly in the eye.

'That's better,' she replied silkily. 'Such dark eyes. I sense they hide a sadness, which very few know about. Luckily, I don't have to be one of those honoured few, I have ways and means to find out everything about you, Mister Clark.'

'You know, you could always ask, I might surprise you and tell you everything.'

She smiled and ran both her hands through his short hair. Had the situation been entirely different, he may have found the motion sensual; as it was it made him shudder with revulsion.

'Unfortunately my wanderings into your mind will have to wait Mister Clark, I have other things of more importance to get through.'

She trailed her hand back through his hair and down his cheek. Her hand moved to her neck and softly traced a line down her chest and in between her breasts, dipping down into her corset and pulling out a small phial of liquid.

'Let me guess,' Clark said with a smirk. 'Safest place on earth, because no man would ever want to venture down there?'

Anger flashed through her eyes but she remained motionless.

'Just so I know, Mister Clark, which side of your face do I tell my friend at the door to hit you on, so to even out your pain?'

'Well, he's had a go at my right, so my left, if he would be so kind.'

She pushed herself off him and stood before him. He sighed and then felt the back of her hand hit the right side of his face in much the same way her minion's hand had done earlier. However, this time it hurt twice as much.

He moved his jaw around, again determining whether it had been broken. It seemed he had been lucky for a second time.

'When I said the left side,' he said calmly, 'I meant my left not yours.'

'I know exactly what you meant, Mister Clark, but no one insults me and gets to choose his punishment.'

'Ah, I understand.'

'Good. Now, on to business. I am going to use you, Mister Clark to give me something I want. Well not directly, but you will play a significant part in helping me achieve my goal. I will give you this, Mister Clark,' she held up the small phial, 'and then you will be under my total control.'

'If you think I'm going to willingly take anything you give me, you need your head seeing to.'

She threw her head back and laughed loudly.

'You see, here is the ingenious part, Mister Clark. You don't have to drink it, because I place it in your blood directly.'

Clark was glad the shiver that ran through him wasn't visible to his captor. He didn't want her to see that her words were affecting him in any way.

She drew her wand and transfigured the chair he was sitting on into a wooden bench. His bound hands, which had been tied to the back of the chair, were now under the bench and pulling him down so he had to lie on it.

She looked down on him and smiled in that innocent way she had obviously mastered. She stepped forward and straddled the bench, hovering over his lap and smirking at him.

'You know…' he stammered through the pain in his wrists. The bonds around them had tightened so much that his hands were tingling through lack of circulation. 'If we're going to be this intimate, you could at least…tell me your name.'

'Oh, how rude of me! I haven't introduced myself, have I? Well, we can't have you not knowing the name of your Mistress now, can we?'

'No, we c…can't'

'All in good time, Mister Clark, all in good time.'

She sat herself down on his lap and leant forwards over him placing one hand on either side of his head.

She took her weight on her left hand and with her right slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

'S…seriously,' he said with a shudder, 'I'd really like to know your name.'

She looked him directly in the eye and smiled, not answering his question. She leant back and took a wand out of her pocket.

'This may hurt, Mister Clark, I suggest you bite on this.'

Clark recognised the wand as his own. He opened his mouth to say something, but the wand was pressed against his mouth and held there until he stopped protesting.

'Believe me, you will want something to bite on,' she said almost kindly. Almost.

She took a deep breath, as if concentrating on what she was about to do.

He closed his eyes in anticipation, but opened them as soon as a searing pain down the centre of his chest made his jaw tighten and his teeth dig into his wand.

After a few seconds, he managed to lift his head off the bench, his breathing heavy. He saw a thin red line starting six inches from his collar bone and stopping a couple of inches below the bottom of his sternum.

She had sliced his skin open.

His breathing became faster as he realised what she had done.

'Don't panic, Mister Clark, I know exactly what I'm doing. There's no need to look so scared. Today is not the day you die. When I'm finished, you'll be as good as new.

Clark wasn't convinced. He wanted to be able to stare at her through whatever she was about to do to him, but he had started to feel dizzy and was forced to lie his head back down on the bench.

'That's right, Mister Clark, you just relax. It'll all be over soon. Just for your information, there are other ways of administrating the potion, but I find this way a lot more satisfying; you will understand what I mean in a few days time.'

Another white-hot pain went through his chest, but he refused to look at what she had done to him. He knew she had just cut through his sternum, which meant she was only aiming for one organ.

He gagged at the thought of what she was about to do.

Seconds went by. Clark had no option but to lie underneath his captor and try to ignore the pain. Occasionally he looked up at the woman. She seemed to be calming herself down, like she was concentrating on something and wanted to make sure whatever she was about to do was done correctly. Two minutes later, she moved and held the phial over his chest.

His eyes widened and he spat out the wand in his mouth.

'What…do…do you w…want with…m…me?' Clark managed to stammer through the pain that seemed to be consuming every part of him.

'I've already told you, Mister Clark, you are going to get me something I need – indirectly, granted – but your part is not insignificant in the slightest. You are the first link in my chain, you should feel very privileged at the thought.'

'I'm…l…lying h…here with my ch…chest open and m…my heart exposed…and I'm s…supposed to feel p…privileged?'

'Yes,' she replied simply. 'You are.'

And with that, she poured the potion onto his heart.

He was expecting an intolerable pain, but it actually felt warm as the liquid seeped into the muscle.

His breathing slowed a little and she smiled.

A minute later, she had healed his bone and closed the wound on his chest, although there was still an angry red line where she had made her mark.

He was confused as he stared at the line on his chest. He felt nothing abnormal.

He was about to open his mouth when the bench underneath him transfigured back into a chair, pushing him back into a sitting position.

She smirked at him and turned to walk back towards the door.

'What does it do?' Clark blurted out.

She turned and faced him, a slightly confused smile on her face.

'I don't feel any different,' he continued. 'What does it do? You said something about…about…being under your control. How?'

'It lies dormant until I activate it with a spell, Mister Clark, as you correctly remembered, from that moment on you are under my command. It works in the same way the Imperius curse does, but it has a major advantage over the unforgivable curse. There is no chance of fighting this potion, once you are under my command, you stay under my command, until the day I lift the spell.'

He couldn't speak, but his mind was working frantically. Suddenly his primary school, muggle biology flooded his brain.

'But, my blood will be cleaned, the potion will be filtered out of my body in a few hours.'

She smiled a proud smile. 'It would if it didn't take the form of the various types of cells in your blood stream, ingeniously disguising itself so it can never be filtered out of your blood, Mister Clark.'

His heart sank, he was beaten.

'So when do I become your unwilling slave then?' he snarled.

'Oh, in the next few days I should think. We are not quite ready for you yet, but we will be soon.'

She turned and walked to the door. She opened it and stepped through it, smiling as she took one last look over her shoulder.

'You still haven't told me your name,' Clark called to her.

'So I haven't,' she replied, still smirking. 'My name is Siona.'

She turned and took a step out of the room.

'Siona what?' Clark asked.

'She turned and looked at him, no trace of a smile on her face.

'Siona Lestrange.'

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**Virtual cookies to all that review! No I am not above bribary! lol**

_All cookies are imaginary, and are not, in fact, real in any way, but you knew that, right? _:P


	2. 2: With My Life

**Chapter 2 – With My Life**

There was something tickling Ron Weasley's long, freckled nose. He twitched, trying to rid himself of the annoyance but to no avail. Whatever it was, was still there and no amount of nose twitching was going to move it.

He slowly opened his eyes and smiled sleepily when he realised what had been tickling his nose. He wasn't surprised; in fact, he should have known that it was his fiancée's unruly hair waking him up.

He pushed himself up onto his elbow and looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table. He smiled when he remembered it was Sunday and that it didn't matter what time it was. They had nothing planned; the day was their own.

He looked down at the mass of brown hair that belonged to Hermione Jean Granger, soon to be Hermione Jean Weasley.

_Well_, he thought, _soon enough anyway._

A year wasn't too long and he had a feeling it would fly by.

She snuggled closer to him when she realised their closeness had been lost.

He smiled and pulled her to him. Her arms moved and her hand slid up his arm. He looked at the ring on her finger and smiled. He would never forget the look of happiness on her face when he had proposed. He had never felt so happy in his life.

'Wake up sleepy,' he said quietly with a smile.

He got no response from her. He chuckled.

'Hermione, wake up.'

She didn't reply but snuggled closer to him. He shifted his weight again and shuffled down so he was level with her. He leant forward and kissed her top lip lightly. He smiled when he saw her tilt her head towards him. He kissed her again, and after a few seconds, she started to kiss him back. He opened his eyes and watched as hers fluttered open. He pulled back.

'Good morning,' he mumbled before kissing her on the nose.

'Mmm, morning,' she replied sleepily. 'I think that's my favourite way of being woken up.'

'Mine too.'

'What time is it?' she asked through a yawn.

'Half eleven.'

'Really? Wow, we slept in late,' she said as she stretched her arms above her head.

He leant down and kissed her neck. She smiled and brought her arms down around him, trailing her hand through his hair. He sighed, content.

The silence was broken by Hermione's stomach rumbling. He laughed against her skin and she smiled.

'Hungry, Hermione?' he asked.

'Apparently!' she replied with a smile.

'Fancy breakfast in bed?'

'I fancy what's already in my bed!'

'Cheeky!'

She leant forward and captured his smiling mouth in another kiss, but was interrupted by another stomach rumble, this time Ron's.

They both fell back onto the bed, laughing.

'I have a feeling we're gonna be interrupted until something is done about our hunger,' Ron said, laughing.

'Yes, I think so, too.'

'So, breakfast in bed then?'

'Breakfast in bed it is.'

Hermione went to get out of bed but Ron caught the hand that was pulling the quilt off her.

'I'll do it, it was my idea after all.'

He kissed her on the nose and clambered over her, stumbling slightly when he got his foot caught in the quilt.

'Slick!' Hermione said, grinning.

'As ever!' he replied.

Hermione watched him walk out of the room and sighed contentedly. There was nothing more in the world she loved more than spending a Sunday morning in bed with Ron, the man she was going to marry. It still made her stomach squirm when she thought about them getting married, but for all the right reasons of course.

She closed her eyes and dozed, waiting for Ron to come back upstairs with their breakfast.

She loved Sundays. They didn't have to do anything special, just lying in bed watching TV, or lying in bed talking was bliss to her. She knew she was lucky, she had found someone who she loved, and he loved her in the same way. They had pledged themselves to the other, and in a year's time, that commitment would become official.

She watched as Ron walked into the room with a tray laden with breakfast food. She sat up and grinned at him.

They spent the next half hour eating, laughing, feeding each other food, and licking jam of each other's noses. (Only the first blob had been placed on Ron's nose accidentally.) When they had finished their breakfast, they watched the TV.

Hermione soon got bored of the omnibus edition of whatever Muggle programme it was and started running her hands through Ron's hair.

'You need a haircut.'

'Do I?'

'Well, _I_ think so!'

'Well I probably do then. I'll get it done in my lunch break tomorrow.'

'I can do it!'

He turned his head to look at her and raised his eyebrows.

'You?'

He grinned in slight disbelief.

'What's wrong with me doing it?'

'Well…I dunno, I've just never thought of you as a hairdresser, although if you were people would come out with a haircut _and_ an education!'

Hermione giggled.

'Well I'd try my best! So do you trust me?'

'With my life? Yes. With my hair…hmmm…'

'Ten more seconds of 'hmmm-ing' and I'm going to get offended!'

Ron laughed out loud. Instead of arguing the point with her, he kissed her.

She ran her hands through his hair again and gently tugged at it, exposing his neck fully to her.

'Then again,' she mumbled in between kissing her way up and down his freckled neck, 'maybe I like it this length.'

Ron grinned and rolled them both over so he was lying on top of Hermione.

'Maybe I do, too.'

'So,' she said, slightly breathless, 'does your trust in me now include your hair as well as your life?'

'Absolutely. I trust you with every part of me, I trust you implicitly with my life.'

…oooOOOooo…

'Well, well, Mister Clark, it seems like things are moving faster than I initially anticipated. You will start doing the work I want you to, tomorrow.'

Clark had been dozing on his mattress but had sat up the instant the door had banged open.

He wasn't sure how long he had been in the cell since she had sliced him open but he didn't think it was too long, a couple of days maybe. It appeared Siona had kept her word; he was, after all, still alive. But she now had a glint in her eye that unnerved him; he came to realise his time was up. No, she wasn't going to kill him, she had promised him that much, but he knew this was the last day he would have control of his mind and his body. From this day on, he became her property, nothing more than a shell of his former self.

She slowly made her way into the room and the cell door shut behind her with a loud bang.

'How are we this morning, Mister Clark?'

He smiled at her. 'Why bother with the niceties?' he asked softly. 'Is it to trick me into thinking you are done with me and are about to let me go? Because, really, I'm not that stupid, and I'd like you to remember that, if you would be so kind.'

She surveyed him, the same small smile playing on her lips and she rocked forward and backward ever so slightly. She decided not to comment on his last statement.

'Your time has come, Mister Clark. Today you will become my willing servant.'

'I think willing may be a slight overstatement,' Clark mumbled.

Again, Siona ignored his comment.

'So, do I get to find out what you're planning on doing with me. It's only polite after all!'

'You will know soon enough. May I ask you a question, Mister Clark?'

He was stunned by her apparent politeness.

'Why are you giving me a choice?'

'I do believe you have got the wrong impression of me, Mister Clark. I am not the person of pure evil you seem to think I am. I have manners and I know how to use them.'

'_Manners?_' Clark exclaimed. 'Oh, that's classic that is! You expect me to believe you aren't pure evil when I am here to play the part of loyal, unquestioning pawn in your plan to wreak whatever havoc and immense pain you have planned on the Wizarding world?'

He had stood up during his words and stood directly in front of her. She hadn't flinched when he had spat his words into her face.

'You are nothing but a vile, heartless bitch, and I feel nothing but pity for you, because that is all you will ever be. There is nothing you can do that will change the person you are, no matter how many words you use, no matter how many lies you tell. You will always be the same twisted, bitter-'

He never ended his sentence, as he screamed upon her actions. She had brought her wand to his chest, and a searing pain was slowly making its way along his still red scar.

She released her wand and he looked down at his chest, breathing heavily.

He saw the same black pattern and intricate markings that snaked their way down her neck along his scar.

'You…' he said, still breathing heavily. 'You branded me with your…your mark.'

'It shows you who you belong to, Clark. You're mine now, and you will be until the day you die.'

He lifted his eyes to her and glared at her, determined to be the last to blink between them. He won the battle; she looked down at the floor.

'Any last words, Mister Clark?'

'Yes. _Fuck you_.'

He smirked.

Her wand moved after anger had flashed through her eyes.

'_Imperio!_'

His eyes glazed over.

'Stand there and don't move,' she said simply.

He did as he was told; his only movements were his eyes blinking occasionally.

She closed her eyes and took a step backwards. She placed her wand over his heart and closed her eyes. She concentrated on all that she had planned, every detail ran through her mind and the tip of her wand glowed a dark red.

Clark took a shuddering breath and his head fell back, his eyes closing as it did. A few seconds passed and slowly, the light from the wand tip faded.

Clark's eyes snapped open and he righted his head. He looked at the woman before him and instantly fell to one knee, his head bowed.

'I am yours to command,' he stated simply.

'Rise,' she said in reply.

He stood, but still with his head bowed.

'You understand what you are to do?' she asked quietly.

'I do, I will not fail you.'

'I'm glad to hear it, you know the consequences if you do.'

'Yes.'

'You may leave to go and prepare yourself. You have one week. Go.'

He bowed from the waist and then stood up, his head held high. He strode past her and opened the door.

'Clark!' she said suddenly, turning around and facing the light that was flooding the dark cell.

He instantly stopped and turned to face his mistress.

'I still have my question to ask you.'

'Anything,' he replied.

'Of all the things I know about you, I don't know your first name. What is it?'

'It is Jonathan.'

She allowed a shadow of a smile cross her lips and breathed deeply.

'You may go, Jonathan. I shall see you in a week.'

* * *

**Thank you for the revies for the last chapter, much appreciated. More fake cookies will be available if you review again! lol**

**Ta, Step ;)**


	3. 3: Caught up by Past Mistakes

Chapter 3

'I have always prided myself in my organisational skills and ability to construct a well rounded, easy-to-use filing system that a whole team of people can use without confusion.'

Hermione was trying her hardest to suppress the small giggle that was building in the pit of her stomach. It really would not be polite to laugh at the person sitting in front of her, especially as they obviously weren't joking and really did believe that their skills in filing was the best thing they could bring to the job of being her new assistant.

She smiled politely and decided to give the young man a chance to show how much fun he really was, under the 'easy-to-use filing system' front.

'So, what do you do in your spare time, Jasper? Do you have many hobbies, or interests?'

Jasper shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

'Er, well I enjoy reading,' he replied.

Hermione tried to look enthusiastic, she, of course, understood the pull of books, but even she had learned to enjoy other things than literature.

'Oh really? What types of books do you like reading?'

Again, Jasper shifted in his seat. 'Well, actually, I enjoy reading books by Muggle authors. I've read a few of their classics but I don't just read those, I read their,' he shifted slightly in his seat, 'science fiction.' His hands made air quotes as he finished his sentence and Hermione tried not to roll her eyes. 'Have you ever read any of them?' he asked Hermione.

'The odd one, when I was younger,' Hermione replied with a polite smile. 'I was never really in to sci-fi. So apart from reading, what else do you do to relax, Jasper?'

He though for a second, his brow furrowing in concentration, before looking positively startled.

'Oh!' he said, obviously surprised at something. 'I totally forgot! I do martial arts, too!'

Hermione, smiled disbelievingly. 'How can you just forget you do martial arts?'

Jasper smiled sheepishly. 'Nerves, I think.'

Hermione smiled and nodded. 'So what type do you do?'

'Kung Fu mainly, but my teacher is a Kickboxer too, so first we learned the basic boxing skills and then progressed to kicks as well. After that, we added in the basic Kung Fu sets and drills. I think combining the two works really well but some people think that combining skills dilutes the individual practices, but the more skill basis you can draw on to defend yourself the better I say.'

Hermione was relieved. Jasper had finally shown her he was more than an efficient filing system instigator.

'I agree. Do you have a preference of the two?'

'Well, initially, boxing and kicking is more aggressive, obviously, you learn how to throw punches in the best way, whereas the basic move of Kung Fu, can take weeks to learn. There are so many different ways to hold your hands during various strikes, and you have to know them all before you can start linking them together. Then again, I think my favourite lesson was when we were shown how to grapple with someone!'

'Grappling? Really?' Hermione asked, one eyebrow raised. 'After all you said about precision in both kickboxing and Kung Fu and now you're talking about having the most fun when rolling around on the floor grappling with someone!'

Jasper laughed out loud. 'Well, there's something very satisfying about pinning someone twice your size to the floor with just one hold! Terrifying when I had it done to me though, you should have seen the size of this guy, he was built like a brick shit-hou—'

His eyes widened and he opened his mouth a few times but no sound came out.

'I'm sorry,' he mumbled eventually.

Hermione smiled kindly at him. 'What for?'

He glanced at Hermione before looking at her desk.

'My language.'

Hermione snorted. 'Oh please, that's nothing to what I hear on a daily basis!'

Jasper's blush receded slightly and he managed a smile.

Hermione checked the clock on her wall and her list on the desk.

'Well, Jasper, we only have a couple of minutes left before I'm due to see the next candidate. Now, if you can tell me what you can bring to the position of my assistant that no one else can, apart from a top notch filing system then I will add you to the very short list of people I am calling back.'

She picked up her quill and positioned it at an obvious list of numbers, which was waiting to be filled. She caught Jasper's eye and then looked at the parchment, hoping he would cotton on to the fact that she wanted to write his name on the list.

'Oh, right, of course,' he began with a smile. 'Well, apart from a top notch filing system I can bring reliability and responsibility and someone who considers tardiness the eighth deadly sin. I'm tidy and I work hard and most importantly I make a fantastic cup of coffee!' He finished his speech with a broader smile, which Hermione returned.

'Two o'clock suit you all right?' she asked.

Jasper sighed in relief. 'Yes, that's fine, brilliant in fact. I'm due to meet my brother for lunch at twelve and my security check is at one, it won't take an hour will it?'

Hermione shook her head. 'No, half an hour at the most, but be prepared for a lot of form filling.'

'Really?' Jasper asked.

'Really,' Hermione reiterated. 'And that's before you've even been offered a job. Should you be successful in your application then you may regret taking it because of the onslaught of parchment that will undoubtedly come your way. Actually, maybe I shouldn't have told you that. I'm putting you off, aren't I?'

Jasper smiled. 'Hardly.'

'Good.'

Hermione gathered her notes on Jasper along with his original application and the results of any initial information gathering that was mandatory with all applications to the Ministry of Magic and the Magical Law Department specifically. She stood and extended her hand to Jasper who, after standing himself, took it and shook it.

'See you at two o'clock, then Jasper.'

'Two o'clock, Miss Granger.'

Hermione's brow furrowed slightly. 'Hermione, please.'

'Hermione it is. See you later.'

Hermione nodded and Jasper gathered his cloak and his bag and left the room, closing the door with a quiet click.

Hermione sat back down and closed her eyes.

Well, he's been the best so far, she thought to herself. Just four more to go!

She filed Jasper's notes away in her appropriately labelled folder and took the next application off the pile.

'Well Mister…' she struggled to read the appalling handwriting of the next applicant, 'Ha-, Han-… Haw…Hawthorn?' she finally asked the empty room.

'That's what you said earlier, Miss Granger,' the painted portrait of a short, rather large man said through a yawn.

'Thank you, Gerald,' Hermione replied without looking at the frame.  
She stood and walked to the door, opening it and stepping into the corridor.  
'Mister Hawthorn, please.'

…oooOOOooo…

'Magical Law, Jas? With your history? How did you even get an interview?'

Jasper looked at his brother, slightly annoyed.

'I doubt my petty thieving as a fifteen- year-old is going to trouble the Magical Law department. Plus your slate gets wiped clean when you come of age.'

'Surely there's still some record?'

Jasper shook his head.

'If you persistently offend then, yes, there is a permanent record, but I don't think I was that bad, do you?'

'And what about your Muggle police file? I do believe your last encounter with the law was on your eighteenth birthday so that won't get sealed. You're officially a criminal!'

'You're officially a dickhead but I don't go around telling you at every opportunity, do I?'

Jasper watched his brother throw his head back in laughter.

'Why did you want to see me?' he asked, wary of the time and his next appointment with – hopefully – his future employer.

'Mum wants you round this Sunday for dinner. Full roast, two kinds of spuds, the lot!'

'I do have a phone, you know!' Jasper retorted.

'Thank you, Jas, I know that, but Mum decided it had been far too long since we'd graced each other with our presence so insisted I come into Wizarding London to see you.'

'Wow, that was convincing. Where are they?'

'Where are what?'

'The multiple bottles of the 'special' Firewhisky you get from a dodgy bloke down Knockturn Alley?'

'Oh, you really have no faith in me at all do you, Jas?'

'None whatsoever. Where are they?'

Jasper watched as his brother smirked and opened his long coat to show bulging inside pockets.

'But Mum really does want you round on Sunday. It wasn't optional, everyone's gonna be there, and if I'm there, so are these.'  
He tapped his coat and the bottles clinked together.

Jasper looked at his watch and realised it was time to make his way back to the Ministry of Magic.

'Oh, look at the time! Unfortunately I have to leave you and your alcohol alone, dear brother of mine.'

He stood and put enough money on the table to cover what both he and his brother had eaten and drank at the small café.

'Aw, cheers, Jas! You shouldn't have!'

'I shouldn't, but you couldn't so I had to.'

He turned and walked down the street.

'See you later, Mills,' his brother called after him.

'Dick'ead!' Jasper called over his shoulder.

'Wanker!'

Jasper saw the disapproving stares of the wizards and witches behind him but couldn't let his brother have the last word. He spun round a smirked.

'Cock'ead!' he shouted loudly before turning on the spot and Apparating to the Ministry.

Still with a grin on his face he made his way through the Atrium and up in the lift to the Department of Magical Law. He was about to sit down on one of the seats in the corridor when Hermione Granger's door opened and she stepped out.

'Oh, Jasper, I'm glad you're here. I need a word with you, would you mind?'

She stepped to the side and gestured for him to walk into his office. He smiled at her.

'Not at all.'

He waited for her to close the door.

'Please, take a seat,' she said, waving the folder she was holding at the chair pulled out from her desk.

He sat in the chair and waited for her to take her seat. He smiled at her but his face fell when she only managed a half smile in return.

He looked at the table and his heart sank. There were three folders on the desk before him, all three labelled Mills – Jasper. He could see that two were still sealed, but one was open and obviously read by Hermione Granger.  
Before Hermione had the chance to say anything, he heard himself speak.

'I can explain,' he said, hating the way his words had turned into a plea.

'Then do.'

* * *

**Hi! Thanks for the reviews and the alerts so far, much appreciated. I'm posting this as a reward for getting chapter 8 finished, so you can rest with the knowledge that there are 5 more chapters of this to come. Obviously you would be kept awake at night worrying about this fact... lol**

**If you could review this chapter, it'd be much appreciated. Thanks, Step ;)  
**


	4. 4: Pleading My Case

**A bit of background information is needed I feel...**

* * *

Chapter 4

'Sho, dyoo 'vanoo sisstanyet?' Ron asked Hermione through a mouthful of mash.

'Please, remind me why I agreed to marry you?' Hermione retorted with a smirk.

'Because I'm irresistible!' Ron replied after he had swallowed his mouthful.

Both Ginny and Harry snorted and he looked at them both, eyebrows raised. He turned his attention back to Hermione.

'So, do you have a new assistant, then? Were any of the people who you interviewed okay?'

'There was only really one who I could see actually being any good for the job.'

She stabbed a few of the beans and ate them.

'But…' Ron prompted, picking up on Hermione's less than enthusiastic behaviour.

She sighed.

'But there's a problem.'

…

'Can I ask you something before I explain myself?' Jasper asked Hermione, looking into her eyes.

'You may,' she replied with a nod.

'I didn't think my petty crimes were horrendous enough to warrant my file being kept open.'

He wiped his palms on his trousers, his nervousness taking on physical form.

Hermione took a deep breath.

'Well, I'm assuming you're correct, they are technically sealed. They're here because you're applying for a job in the Department of Magical Law. Had there just been one small incident then I wouldn't have been told about them, they would have been wiped. But…there wasn't just one incident, was there, Jasper?'

She didn't wait for him to reply.

'I haven't looked at them yet, but I have been given authority to read them should I wish. This one, however,' she flipped open the file she had been holding when she opened the door to him, 'I _have_ read.'

She looked at him and he looked away, down at his hands in his lap.

'You're Muggle born, aren't you, Hermi–…Miss Granger?'

Hermione nodded.

'And you're an only child.'

It was a statement rather than a question, but she nodded in agreement anyway.

'Well, I'm guessing that your parents had no problem with you going off to school to learn to control your magical skills, and you didn't have any siblings who weren't magical who distrusted you and were probably a little bit jealous of your talents.'

Hermione didn't say anything, just looked at him once more, waiting for him to continue his explanation.

'There's five of us. Jack's the oldest. He's my half brother. He's a wizard. His dad left mum a couple of months after he was born and then she met my dad shortly after that. They had Sophie a year and a bit later, then Chris pretty soon after that, neither Soph or Chris are magical.'

He looked up at Hermione and saw she was still listening intently.

'With three kids they decided their family was complete, which was why it was a bit of a shock, when seven years later, mum finds she's pregnant. With twins. So my brother and me are the last two and we're both magical.'

He took a deep breath and looked up at Hermione, trying to hold eye contact with her as he continued to talk.

'I'm not…I don't want to come out and say that we weren't wanted, but…I dunno, occasionally I got the feeling that Dad resented the fact that he wasn't out doing whatever he wanted to do. Jack was at Hogwarts, Chris and Soph were at the local primary school and dad had his days to do what he wanted. He was made Chief Executive of the company his granddad set up, it was earlier than expected because his dad died and he took over the reigns, but, really, the Managing Director of the company did all the leg work and Dad had a lot of spare time on his hands. He loved it! He had most days to himself, and then suddenly he had twin boys to look after.'

He sighed and subconsciously ruffled his hair with his hand.

'Mum was a teacher and it seemed pointless her not going back to work when dad was at home most days, so she did. Sorry, all this probably isn't relevant, I tend to waffle on a bit. I'll get to the point soon.'

He risked a half smile and relaxed when Hermione returned it.

'Just take your time Jasper, we've got plenty.'

He took another deep breath.

'Thanks. Anyway, when we were four, before we started school, it was obvious we were magical. My brother and me…well…we weren't exactly friends when we were growing up, we only just about manage it now. We were always trying to score points off each other and were always winding each other up. We did uncontrolled magic at least once a week just because we got really angry at each other. It got so bad that dad was visited by someone from the muggle liaison office. He didn't like that _at all_; he thought they were questioning his ability to control his children. I think his small misgivings about magic grew into dislike that afternoon. It was bad enough we'd made the odd ornament explode but that took the biscuit I think.

'Anyway, it led to a lot of shouting between mum and dad, me and John, my twin, we heard it all, and we got the impression, at the precious age of four years old, that Dad really didn't like having to look after us. Having said that, I can't sit here and say we weren't cared for. Dad did love us, he just really disliked magic, occasionally he took that out on Jack as well when he came back from Hogwarts, and then, when we eventually went, things took a turn for the worse again.

'John _hated_ being away from his Muggle friends. I mean really hated it. I made friends at Hogwarts, but they…well…they didn't care too much for the rules. Everyone thinks Ravenclaws wouldn't dream of getting themselves into trouble, but it's not true, it just means they plan their cover ups to the minute detail and get away with ninety nine percent of what they plan!'

Hermione smiled.

'Sorry, I really am waffling, aren't I?'

'I told you, Jasper, we have time, don't worry.'

He nodded.

'Well, after a while I started to dread going back home. I knew there would be shouting, what with John out 'til all hours catching up with his friends who he'd been separated from for weeks on end, and me missing my school friends. During the summer after fifth year, John had a really big argument with Dad, I tried to defend him, for once it was Dad being unreasonable, not John. Anyway, he threw us both out. John went to stay with his friends. I went to stay with my uncle. My alcoholic uncle. I want to blame him for the sate I got myself into, but, really, it was all my own doing.'

Jasper coughed and tried to clear his throat. Hermione took her wand from the desk and waved it. A glass of water appeared in front of her and she handed it to Jasper.

'Thanks,' he replied quietly.

'You're welcome.'

'The Muggle Juvenile Record will tell you I was—'

'Jasper, you don't have to tell me that, there's a reason these are sealed. If you'd done anything too bad I would have been told already.'

Jasper nodded.

'I understand, but I need to tell you.'

He looked at Hermione and gave a small shrug. She nodded and gave a small smile in understanding.

'I was arrested for trying to nick alcohol from the local offie, and then again for being drunk and disorderly. When they tried to arrest me the second time, I smacked a police officer. Somehow I managed to avoid any formal action, I had to see a couple of counsellors and I told them what they wanted to hear and by the end of the summer I was back at Hogwarts where no one knew what had happened.

'Sixth year was pretty normal except for…well…the reason for that other file. A couple of us had already passed our Apparition tests and were bored of Hogsmeade, so we Apparated to a village where one of my friends lived, still in Scotland, but Muggle. We went to the pub, got drunk and caused the Ministry to need to send workers to cover up our magic and Obliviate some of the local Muggles.

'First and, thankfully, last official warning from the Ministry, privileges taken away from us for the entire duration left of the school year, and never being trusted with anything major by any of the teachers at school. It could have been a lot worse, but, we were still bright, intelligent boys so they didn't give up on us completely.

He took another long drink from the glass and placed it back on the table. He turned the glass on its spot and nervously glanced up at Hermione.

'I appreciate you telling me all that, Jasper. It can't have been easy. I…I don't really know what I can say to you. I _can't_ understand, our childhoods were totally different. I can't imagine what it would have been like for you with your dad's dislike of magic. It must have made things so hard. How about…no, sorry, that's none of my business.'

'No! Ask me! I don't mind explaining things, I have to! For my sake more than anything else.'

'I was just going to ask how your older brother, Jack did you say his name was? How did he get on with his step-dad, considering he was magical?'

'That's the thing, Jack was the one who got on with dad the best, it was like he wasn't magical, any magic Jack did use when he was with Dad was minimal and was, obviously, controlled and only when he came of age, so it didn't annoy my dad. I said that occasionally Dad took out his dislike of magic out on him, but Dad always apologised when he'd calmed down.

'There was never any mention that Dad wasn't Jack's real father. As far as anyone was concerned he _was_ Jack's real father. He brought him up and Jack has never known anyone else to take that role. Apart from when Dad was already really annoyed because of me and John, he never held Jack's magical abilities against him.'

'I hate to say it,' Hermione said quietly, 'but that seems a little bit…hypocritical.'

Jasper smiled sadly.

'It is a bit, isn't it?'

They sat in silence for a minute. Hermione put the sealed files in her drawer but kept the open one on her desk.

'I appreciate your openness and honesty, Jasper, you didn't have to tell me all that, but you did and that took a lot of courage. But I am obliged to ask you to explain your official criminal record. I've only looked at the basic details, so I know you were charged with ABH.'

Jasper nodded.

'It was mine and my brothers' eighteenth birthday, we were out in town and we'd both had a bit too much to drink. One of his old school acquaintances called him a ponce for going to a _private _school and he wouldn't let it go, it all escalated into a fight and I couldn't leave well alone either. I told you I enjoyed Martial Arts, well, that stemmed from that fight. I vowed I'd never get beaten up that badly again so learned how to defend myself. Before I got the shit kicked out of me I managed to land a few punches myself. We were all caught, charged and, again, because I came off worse, I managed to escape prison or any serious penalty.

'When I went back to school after those Christmas holidays I decided I wasn't going to mess things up because of my dad, my brother or anyone else, especially me. I'd not studied too hard previously to then, but I hadn't done nothing either, I put my head down and managed to scrape a few N.E.. And that's…that's all there is to tell.'

'Jasper I—'

'Can I just say something,' he chuckled, 'one _last_ thing?'

Hermione smiled and nodded.

'I'll understand if you can't employ me because of all that I've just told you, and I won't blame you for it at all. To be honest, I applied on the off chance my record would be…I dunno, overlooked or something just as unlikely. Stupid I know.'

'Not stupid, just hopeful. As I said, Jasper, I appreciate your honesty, but I need to discuss the situation with my superiors. I'll let you know as soon as I can.'

---

'Wow,' Ron said with a sigh, 'that's quite a big problem.'

'Well,' Hermione started before obviously choosing her words carefully. 'I know you lot are going to think me insane for saying it, but I think I trust him.'

Ginny's eyebrows disappeared into her fringe, Harry tilted his head to one side and Ron stabbed a potato and put the whole thing in his mouth.

'Hermione, he has three types of criminal record, all for aggressive behaviour! Is he really someone you want to have work for you?' Ginny asked, her voice getting louder and getting a few looks from the other members of the Weasley family around the table.

'Actually only two of them were for aggressive behaviour, the first was for theft.'

'Oh, yes, that makes thing _so_ much better!'

'When did you say his last offence was?' Harry asked Hermione, ignoring Ginny's argument.

'His eighteenth birthday.'

'And nothing since then?' Harry asked.

'Nothing. Not even a question from either the Muggle or Wizarding authorities.'

'Well, then, maybe he did see the error of his ways. People can change for the better.'

Ginny snorted. 'Yes, because we all believe the Death Eaters who managed to avoid prison when they say they have changed their ways.'

'Gin, please don't criticize the way Kingsley had the Dark Suspects tried after the war. He had them do it as fairly as possible, just because one or two of the results weren't quite as we might have thought, it's the way the justice system works now.'

'I wasn't criticising Kingsley, Harry-'

'No, you were criticising our justice system, which Kingsley set up, you know it winds me up when you do that. And anyway, a few drunken incidents as a teenager is hardly the same as Death Eater activity!'

'He was of age for one of them!' Ginny retorted, intent on proving her point.

'Stupidity and mistakes don't stop when you come of age, Gin!' Ron said, speaking on the subject for the first time. 'Wisdom and Knowledge doesn't suddenly appear over night.'

'I know that!' Ginny snapped.

'What does your boss think?' Ron asked Hermione, before anyone else could speak.

Hermione sighed. 'He's left the decision up to me. If he'd been applying for a job like mine or higher then he would have been dismissed outright, but because it's an assistants role and because the offences are minor, it's up to whoever will be his superior, which is me.'

She looked directly at Ron and took his hand.

'What do you think?' she asked him.

Ron sighed and pushed a Cherry Tomato around his plate.

'It's like Harry said, isn't it? He's not put a foot wrong since and he was open with you when you asked him to explain everything. If you think you can work with him and trust him then why not give him a two-month trial or something similar? If he is genuine then he won't mind proving himself.'

Hermione considered Ron's suggestion and nodded.

'Yeah, a trial could work for both him _and_ me. He might end up not liking the job, and if at the end either of us aren't happy then we can say goodbye and that can be the end of it. I can still be a reference for him if it's appropriate.'

'Well, I still don't think it's a good idea,' Ginny said, 'but I think the trial is a compromise.'

Hermione nodded.

'Sounds like a good plan,' Harry agreed.

Ron smiled at her. 'You'll make the right decision! It's the law, Hermione Granger can never be wrong!'

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's smiling face.

'It might be irrelevant anyway; there's still the checks on his family and the such like to get through yet. If there's anything too bad in those then he'll be dismissed as a candidate regardless of what I think.'

'Well, it's the weekend now, you don't have to think about it until Monday,' Ron said with a smile.

Hermione took his hand in hers and returned his smile.

The four of them went back to their plates and finished off their meals. As Harry stacked their plates Ginny turned her attention to Hermione.

'Sorry if I was harsh before, You're just, more trusting than I am, probably. Sometimes I catch myself still waiting for something to happen to one of us. I'm sure he's fine and he'll be a good assistant, just…be careful, okay? Please?'

Hermione smiled and took Ginny's hand.

'I know, and I will. Promise.'


	5. 5: Weighing up the Odds

**Hi All!**

**'Nother chapter of With My life for you, sorry for the delay! If I don't post anything else before Christmas, I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a brilliant 2009.**

**Thanks :D  
**

**Sarah ;) xxx**

* * *

**Chapter 5 - Weighing up the Odds**

...

The clunk of a heavy bottle upon his glass brought Jasper from the remains of his dinner.

'Top up, Jas?'

Jasper looked up at his brother, then at the bottle of what he knew to be extra potent mead from Knockturn Alley.

'No-'

John poured the mead into Jasper's glass.

'...thank you,' he finished with a glare at his brother. John grinned at him.

'If I splinch myself going home, I'm using your body for spares.'

John laughed loudly and fell back in his dining chair. 'I'm flattered you think my body worthy of being used for spares.'

Jasper looked over John and mentally tallied up the years of smoking, drinking and general abuse he knew his brother's body had been through.

'Yeah, actually on second thoughts, I'll do without.'

John smirked and put the bottle of mead to his lips.

'Ah! We'll have none of that at the table. You have a glass in front of you!'

Jasper couldn't help but chuckle at his mother's chastisement of his brother.

John huffed and filled his glass before downing most of the contents in one.

'Oh! Jasper, I forgot to ask. How did the job interview go?'

Jasper's stomach squirmed a little. He didn't really want to bring up his past misdoings and how they affected his working life at the dinner table, but he knew if he didn't then his twin most likely would.

'I think it went okay, all things considering, but there was a couple of issues Miss Granger has to think about before she lets me know.'

'Your criminal record being the main one, I presume,' John said with a smirk.

Jasper gave his brother a look of annoyance. 'Yes, thank you, John, that was one of the things she had a concern with, but I was honest with her and all I can do is see what happens. I didn't even expect to get this far, but I have, so who knows!'

'Department of Magical Law, isn't it, Jasper?'

Jasper looked up at his eldest brother and nodded. 'Yeah, it is.'

Jack nodded. 'Um, I hate to be negative, Jas, but, they check your immediate family, too, and, well, not wishing to point the finger or anything but...'

'Oh, here we go!' John said as he took a swig from his bottle.

'John, I won't tell you again about that!'

'Well, I'm sorry, John, but you're hardly a shining example of living by the letter of the law, are you?' Jack replied, justifying his earlier statement.

'Neither's Jasper! That's why he wasn't offered the job outright!'

'Yes, but Jasper can palm his record off as being an immature teenager who'd taken the wrong road. You, on the other hand, are supposed to be an adult so you don't have that luxury anymore!'

John glared at his brother, put his bottle on the table harder than was necessary and left the table.

'Pudding in five minutes, love,' Jasper's mum said cheerfully as John left the room.

She and the rest of the family started clearing plates and glasses while Jasper and Jack stayed in their seats.

'Sorry, I didn't mean to put a downer on your chances, but I think they do look into your family's past,' Jack said quietly.

Jasper's dad walked back into the room. 'I'm not sure if I like people snooping around our family. It's none of their bloody business what we do with our lives.'

Both Jasper and Jack ignored their father's mutterings and waited until he had left the room with a huff before continuing their conversation.

'I'm only applying for an assistant's job, though. It's not as if I'm applying to work for any position to do with prosecution or defence or anything. I'll be filing paperwork, making appointments and keeping Miss Granger's life as simple and as easy for her as possible. Maybe they don't do background checks for something this small.'

Jasper's sister walked through looking irritated. 'Cream or ice cream with your apple pie?'

'Ice cream,' Jasper replied.

'Me, too, thanks, Soph,' Jack said with a smile.

Sophie left the room and Jasper glanced at his brother.

'You might be right,' Jack said with an optimistic smile. 'I suppose there's no point in speculating, especially when there's nothing you can do to change things.'

Jasper nodded and went to pick up his glass before realising it had been tidied up.

Jack smiled. 'Probably a good thing, considering what John was putting in there.'

Jasper snorted. 'Yep, probably a very good-.'

John banged his way through the door smelling of smoke and something that Jasper knew to not be entirely legal. His brother landed on the chair next to Jasper and coughed a hacking cough before grimacing and rubbing his chest with his fist.

'You okay there, dick'ead?' Jasper said with a smirk.

'Thank you for asking, cock'ead, I'm fine!'

'We'll have none of that language in this house, you hear me?'

Jasper smiled at his mum who had walked into the dining room carrying bowls of apple pie, which she put down in front of them harder than was absolutely necessary.

Jasper eagerly picked up his spoon and set about eating his pudding.

'Thanksh- har! that's hot!,' Jasper said through a mouthful of hot apple and pastry.

'The steam rising from it didn't give that away then, Jasper?' Sophie asked as she patiently blew on her own spoonful of pie.

Jasper pulled a sarcastic smile at his sister before his eyes landed on his twin.

_Carrying and using a Class C tradable drug, possibly with the intent to supply. Possibility of purchasing dodgy alcohol from a known law breaker. Fake designer watch on his wrist..._

Jasper shovelled more pudding onto his spoon and wisely blew on it to cool it down. His eyes glazed over and he stared through the wall in front of him.

_Not a Salamander's hope in winter!_

…

'What are you thinking?'

Hermione smiled at Ron's question. She opened her eyes and watched him shuffle under the covers towards her. He propped himself on his elbow and stroked Hermione's stray hair out of her eyes.

'Not a lot.'

Ron snorted. 'Okay, you're lying, it's impossible for you not to be thinking a huge amount!'

Hermione laughed. 'I do relax and chill out at some time, you know!'

'Well, yeah, but I can tell when you're mind's working overtime, even when you're trying to go to sleep. You frown ever so slightly. Most people wouldn't notice. But I'm not most people.'

Hermione smiled and ran her hands through Ron's hair. 'Nope, you're definitely not most people.'

'So, I don't actually think I need to ask what you were thinking about.'

'Probably not, no.'

'I'll say it again, you don't have to make a decision until tomorrow, and even then you can take your time!'

'I know,' Hermione replied with a sigh.

Ron leaned over her and kissed her lightly on the lips. Hermione responded in kind and raked her fingers through his hair.

Slowly, he ran his hand down her side, which made her shiver lightly. She smiled against his lips. He pulled his leg over hers, which pinned her to the mattress. It was then that he dug his fingers into her ribs and started tickling her.

'Ron!' Hermione screeched through involuntary laughter. 'Stop it! This is…r-really m…mean!'

Ron merely grinned down at her and continued to tickle her. After a few more seconds, she managed to get wiggle her hand out from between their bodies and attacked his ribs.

Ron would never admit how high-pitched his squeak was, but Hermione had something to giggle at. Or she would have when she'd won this battle.

'Do I win?' Ron asked as he continued to grin at a determined looking Hermione who was reaching her arm around to the other side of his chest.

'No!' she said as Ron let out another very high-pitched squeak.

At her words, Ron shifted himself so he was lying flat on top of Hermione and she could barely move, yet he continued to tickle her.

'Okay! Okay! I give in! You win!'

Ron stopped but didn't move off her.

'Are you sure I win!'

'You know, lying on top of me _is_ cheating, and dare I ask why you started tickling me in such a manner?'

Ron shifted his weight so he wasn't lying totally on top of Hermione. 'You needed something to stop you thinking about work. A short shock achieved that, I think!'

'Well, it certainly did that.'

'See! I'm a genius, and I'm also likely to start tickling you if I think you're thinking about work, so you'd better start thinking about something else, Hermione Granger, or else you shall be tickled!'

Hermione laughed and pushed him off her.

'I shall be careful not to think about work, then. Well, not until I wake up.'

'Good. But you can't dream about it, either, because I will know and will wake you up at a ridiculous time in the morning to tell you to stop!'

'Well, you woke me up at a ridiculous time this morning because you are insatiable even when sleeping!'

'Can't help waking up, seeing you next to me and wanting to shag you senseless!'

Hermione sighed. 'You have such a way with words, my love!'

'I know! And you love me for it!'

_..._

'Right, let's see what they have in store for me tonight.'

The elderly wizard picked up a stash of folders off his desk and looked at the note clipped to the top most folder.

'Ah, background checks I see. Oh, damn! That means I have to use that blasted machine in the corner.'

'Are you talking to me or yourself again, Richard?'

Richard turned and looked at the portrait behind him, mounted on the wall.

'Myself, thank you, Gerald. That way I am guaranteed intelligent conversation.'

'That, dear man is a matter of personal opinion. But I do believe I've told you over and over again that talking to yourself is the first sign of madness, dear boy!'

'And I have told you, over and over again, Gerald, that some people would consider talking to a portrait of a man no longer in this world, worse than talking to one's self!'

Gerald gave an indignant 'humph' before taking a seat in his portrait.

Richard chuckled and read the note on the top of his file.

'_Dear Richard,_ well that certainly narrows down the amount of people this could be from.'

'It's from Miss Granger, I watched her write it this afternoon.'

'Ah, so it is, _please would you do a check on any criminal activity of Jasper Mills' direct family, including his mother and father, his half-brother, his elder brother and sister and his twin brother. Thank you, Hermione Granger. _It will be a pleasure, Miss Granger.'

'It wasn't going to be a pleasure before, when you realised you had to turn that Muggle machine...thing on!'

'Gerald, how many times do I have to tell you, they call it a _computer_.'

'Oh, whatever it's called it's still Muggle technology that has the reliability of the Canons' first team Keeper!'

Richard chuckled. 'You do have a point there, but it's been working fine recently, quite efficiently, in fact. I think keeping my wand as far away from the thing as possible is a good course of action to follow.'

He took his wand out of his pocket and put it on his desk near the entrance to the archives.

'Well, I shall leave you in peace, Richard, it is rather late, you know. I still have no idea why you choose to work the Sunday evening shift, but I learned better than to question your eccentricities a long time ago. Have a good evening, old boy. I shall see you soon.'

'Evening, Gerald. Sleep well.'

Richard made his way past the tall and seemingly ongoing shelves, full of parchment, files and folders, to the back of the extremely wide, but not very deep, room.

There was an old, battered monitor standing on an even older and even more battered computer.

He pulled out the chair and sat his old, tired bones on the seat. He switched the machine on and saw the monitor flicker to life.

'Well, that's promising!' Richard said with a chuckle.

He double-checked the name of the family he was researching and, when the computer had booted up and taken him to the system he needed to access, typed in that name. After a few keystrokes, he had found the first person he was looking for. He commanded the computer to list all records of a criminal nature for him. The list appeared.

'Oh, dear. Oh dear, oh dear.'

Taking his Quick Quotes Quill out of his pocket he stood it on its point and started dictating the list of offences to the quill.

As he was about to say the last of the offences, all the candles in the archives went out at once.

Startled, Richard immediately felt round for his wand before remembering that he had left it at the entrance to the archives.

He was about to stand when he heard the swish of robes to his left.

'Hello? Who's there?' he asked.

He heard footsteps come towards him and stood up to meet whoever was in the archives and who had, apparently, plunged him into darkness.

'Who's there? At least have the decency to show yourself!'

Richard felt someone stand very close to him; he didn't move a muscle.

'Now where's the fun in that, old man? And if I did this, so you could see me, you'd be able to add another crime to that list your making, and I can't have that. Especially when that's the reason I'm here.'

'But- what-?'

Blinding pain across his forehead caused him to lose his train of thought, and he fell to his knees.

'Sleep well, old man, it'll all be over soon.'


	6. 6: Spinning Around

**Chapter 6 - Spinning Around  
**

Hermione Granger was spinning around. Quite literally. She inwardly smiled at how her body was mimicking what her mind was doing, even though she was now feeling a little dizzy. The reason for her spinning was her luxurious office chair.

When she had arrived in her office for the first time there had been the standard Ministry of Magic chair awaiting her behind her standard Ministry of Magic desk. She had been told she could transfigure the chair into any shape that she preferred but she had politely declined and had used the office chair as it had stood for a week.

Her colleagues were confused as to why she had kept the chair as it was, but they didn't know that as soon as she had got home that evening she had phoned her Dad and asked him to order her the same chair that he had in the house office.

Ron teased her about being in love with a chair, at which she rolled her eyes and told him not to be so ridiculous. But she did admit that sitting in her chair could calm her down when she was stressed. Which is what she was, and that was the reason why she was spinning in her chair.

As her chair took her around to her desk once more, she looked at the clock above her door and noted that it was twelve minutes past nine. She was waiting for the inter-departmental post to arrive, and with it, the results of her requested investigations.

'Is the post on it's way, Gerald?'

'Memo, Owl or Interdepartmental, Miss Granger?'

'Interdepartmental. Memos were awaiting my arrival, and I received two letters by Owl twenty minutes ago, but I'm still waiting for the results of the searches I requested from the archives.'

'Oh! Yes, I remember, I was with Richard last night as he read your request. I left him as he was about to start so it will definitely be in the post when it arrives. Hmm, let me go and see if I can spot the delivery boy.'

'He's not a boy, Gerald, he's nineteen!'

'Is he? Looks about fifteen to me!'

Hermione chuckled to herself as Gerald left his portrait. She started spinning on her chair again and turned her mind to her tasks for the day. It was then that she heard a knock on her door.

'Come in!' she called and heard her door opening.

She continued to spin until she was facing her door then stood up quickly. She walked towards the interdepartmental postman and had to stop briefly before she walked into the wall. Her chair spinning wasn't always the best thing to do, as she did get quite dizzy from it. She blinked a couple of times and smiled to try and cover what had just happened.

'Reports for you, Miss Granger,' the tall blond haired boy said with a cheeky smile.

'Thanks, Andy,' she replied.

She turned back to her desk and hurried around it. She had untied the string around the folder and discarded it before she had sat down and she hurriedly glanced over the parchment.

'Oh! Well, that makes things…easier?'

…

'Arse! Where the hell are you, you bugger?'

The tinny rendition of the embarrassingly cheesy pop song continued to torment him as he tried to find his mobile phone.

'This coat doesn't have that many pockets!' he exclaimed.

The song continued and he was starting to attract a couple of glances as people walked past him. He continued to search, but after one last grunt of frustration he sidestepped into an alleyway between two shops, pulled out his wand and summoned his phone.

'Accio phone!'

The solid black device flew out of a pocket he was sure he had checked three times, landed in his hand, gave a flicker and then died.

'Fuck. Jasper, you _know_ magic and phones don't mix.'

He stowed his wand away before walking back out into the street. He held down the 'on' button on the small phone and was relieved to see the screen light up and show various logos and pictures before searching for a signal.

After pressing a few more buttons he was listening to the dial tone as he rang whoever had phoned him. He didn't recognise the number, but it wasn't unlike his twin brother to have lost his phone or borrowed someone else's, and the last time he ignored a number he didn't know, his brother had ended up in hospital for three days before the family found out he was there.

He recognised the voice on the end of the phone after a simple 'hello', but he didn't want to embarrass himself. His favourite saying ran through his mind: _Presumption is the mother of all fuck ups!_

'Hi, I just had a missed call from this number.'

'Jasper?'

'Yeah, is that Hermi- I mean, Miss Granger?'

'You were correct the first time, it's Hermione. I haven't called you at a bad time, have I?'

'No, I just couldn't for the life of me find my phone, then I summoned it by magic and it didn't like that one bit.'

'Ah, no, if I get annoyed while on my phone it starts to crackle and, well, I have had to replace more than one. I'll leave it at that!'

Jasper laughed.

'Anyway, I was just ringing to ask if you were free to come in to see me this afternoon at all.'

'Oh! Yeah, that's fine, er, no…yeah, that's fine.'

'Are you sure? You sound a bit uncertain.'

'Yeah, I'm sure. I was just trying to remember if I had anything on this afternoon, but I don't, so it's fine. What time do you want me to come in?'

'Well, I'm out on my lunch at the minute but I'll be back at the office soon, give me fifteen minutes to walk back, any time after that is okay.'

'Nice one, I'm just in Kilburn, on my way back to the centre of town, when I've found somewhere inconspicuous to Apparate from.'

'Yeah, that can be fun sometimes, especially when it's chucking it down.'

'Tell me about it. Anyway, I'll see you in about twenty minutes.'

'See you then.'

'Bye.'

'Bye.'

Jasper pocketed his phone in his jeans pocket before straightening his jacket. His frantic search for his phone and his wand had left him looking a little dishevelled and he righted the situation before carrying on down the street.

He looked around him and sighed when he saw the street really was as busy as he thought it was. Remembering the night before he turned and recognised the dodgy kebab shop they had stumbled into last night, instantly felt a little queasy but remembered that, on exiting the shop, his friend Felix had lurched to the left, disappeared from site down the side of the shop and emptied his recently purchased food, out of his stomach onto the floor.

Turning his nose up at the thought of being reintroduced to his friend's deposit he took a deep breath, and took a running jump down the small alley, hoping he had landed far away from the offending material and praying that he hadn't just landed in it and was about to go flying.

Thankfully his footing was secure and he jogged a few steps down the small space. He took a quick look behind him to make sure no one had followed him down the alley, looked ahead of him before closing his eyes and concentrating on where he wanted to apparate to. He opened his eyes and started to turn on the spot but as he turned he noticed there was someone standing directly in front of him.

He could feel the unmistakable compression starting from the impending apparition and didn't want to splinch himself, so shut his eyes against whoever was standing and staring at him and concentrated on his destination.

The compression ended and he was relieved when he felt no searing pain in his limbs and he checked that he still had all ten fingers. He wiggled his toes and was satisfied he wasn't losing any. It was only then that his thoughts returned to whoever was in the alley with him, who hadn't been there a second earlier.

He shrugged and started walking, someone may have just apparated into the alleyway as he was leaving, if _he_ was using it for some covert apparition, then other people would do too. There was no point in looking for anything sinister in it. It's not as if he had been attacked or jinxed. It was just a coincidence, that was all.

Nothing more than a coincidence.

…

He watched as she walked in front of him. He noticed her shoulder bag bouncing lightly against her hip as she moved. Her hair, pulled back in a loose ponytail high on her head swayed with each step she took.

As she picked up her pace to catch one of the already open lifts he did the same and managed to slip inside before the golden gates closed.

'Fourth please,' she said to the Ministry Official who was standing nearest the panel of buttons mounted on the wall.

'Sixth,' he said with a nod.

He stood behind her and watched as she ate the last mouthful of her food. She closed the lid of the carton and put it in her bag.

The lift announced the names of the floors in its silky voice and as they reached the fourth floor she moved towards the front of the lift.

He watched as she stepped out, and just as the doors were starting to close, he quickly exited the lift.

He walked in step with her, so to not alert her to the fact that there was someone following her and kept far enough back so that she wouldn't sense he was there.

She took the right turn half way down the corridor but he didn't follow her. He saw her walk half way down and then unlock the second door on the right with her wand. She went in and shut the door behind her.

He took another look around and set off back to the lifts.

As he was walking through the Atrium he looked up through the small crowd of people in front of him. He panicked when he saw a man behind them, looking slightly nervous as he made his way through the Ministry building.

Not wanting to be seen by the man he brought his hand to his face and scratched at his hair, obscuring the view of his eyes. He jogged through the Atrium to the fireplaces at the far end. As he stepped into the fireplace he took a quick look towards the lifts and watched as the man waited patiently for the next one to arrive.

He grabbed a handful of Floo powder and disappeared from the Ministry in a flash of green flame.

…

'I'd tell you the kneeling before me isn't necessary, however, I have to admit I like it. But I digress. Do you have a progress report for me, Jonathan?'

Siona stood above him, as he had fallen to his knees in front of her without her direction.

'I do. He is in place and I have chosen my moment. May I request one extra week to put my plan into action, my lady? I feel it would make the deception all the more believable if I wait one more week before implementing it.'

Siona took a deep breath.

'Rise.'

Jonathan got to his feet but kept his head bowed.

'I told you what would happen if you failed me.'

'With all due respect, my lady, I have not failed you, everything is in place, I just feel-'

'Yes, yes I heard your reasoning for waiting longer than I would have liked.'

She looked at him and stroked her hand down his chest. She rested her fingertips over his heart and pressed down on where she knew his scar was. She felt him brace himself against the pain. The tattoo she had branded him with grew and stretched up his skin, until she could see the top of it reaching between the material of his open collar.

She took her hand off him and seemed to bring herself out of a trance. The tattoo disappeared from view.

'I'm not happy, Jonathan, but I trust your intelligence so I shall allow this to go on longer for another week. However, I will not grant you any more time, and should this plan fail, you will know exactly how angry and disappointed I am in you. I suggest you don't allow that to happen. For your own sake.'

He nodded his head.

'I will not fail you.'

She nodded and he left the room.

The door closed and she took a deep breath.

'Patience, Siona. Perfection takes time. Everything will happen when it's meant to.'

* * *

_Apologies for the longish wait for this update, I've been working on various things and this has been shoved to the back of the queue, which I didn't really want to happen, but I don't really want to force my muse on this because I've worked so hard on what I've done so far. If you could let me know what you think of this installment it'd be much appreciated._

_In November 2006 me and Solstice Muse co-wrote a Ron/Hermione fic and we've finally got around to posting it on here. It's over on Solstice's profile and is called One Last Chance. She wrote all chapters which are in Ron's point of view and I wrote all those in Hermione's point of view, each chapter alternates, Shari's odds and I'm evens! It's called One Last Chance so go and have a read if you fancy something a little bit confusing to read! :)_

_Step ;) xxx  
_


	7. 7: A Surprising Outcome

**Chapter 7**

The smack against the glass in his door made him jump in his seat. As a result he swore under his breath. He had his feet propped on his desk and he was reading the file he had found most interesting on first glance that he had found on his desk on his arrival that morning.

The door opened and his third most superior boss came through the door and threw the file at him. It, somehow, landed on his lap and he frowned and turned it so the name label was the right way round.

Hi brow furrowed when there was no name on the front of the file and then he frowned even more when one of his four bosses left his office without saying a word, the bang of his slightly rickety door making him jump a again.

He opened the file that had no reference whatsoever and found two pieces of parchment inside.

The large photograph caught his eye. He was looking at a human body but it wasn't moving. He squinted at the image and made sure that he wasn't looking at a Muggle – non-moving – photograph. He saw shadows moving on the skin that was exposed so knew it was a Wizarding photograph. The male chest he was looking at wasn't moving up and down with either steady or irregular breaths, which led Ron to the obvious and correct conclusion.

The man in the photograph was dead.

Ron winced as he looked properly at what was on the skin. There was a slit stretching from the top of the man's ribcage down to the bottom of his sternum. Some of the wound had been closed and the skin had knitted together, other parts of it had either split open after being healed, or not been healed properly in the first place. A trickle of blood had escaped from the bottom of the cut and had veered off to the right.

At the top of the line, Ron noticed the skin looked like it had been burned and not healed correctly, but it was too patterned for it to be a burn, unless of course it was a brand.

Ron shuddered at the thought.

He picked up the other piece of parchment and wasn't surprised to see a 'pre-formal investigation' form. He briefly thought the same thing he thought every time he looked at one of these forms – _why are they pink?_ – and then wondered why there was a distinct lack of information on the form.

The door to the adjoining office flicked open and banged against the wall. He heard footsteps and then in his peripheral vision he saw someone – someone he knew very well – perch themselves on the edge of his desk.

'Is this a case where they have no idea if it's anything, but they feel they _should_ report something and, therefore, do, because then they've covered their arses should anything major happen in regards to it?'

'Why are these forms always pink? Why not normal parchment colour? Why not normal parchment?'

'I mean, it hardly says anything. There's a pretty horrible picture of a dead body with a weird scar and a close up of a partially removed tattoo… Is this one of those cases where they're not even sure it's a Wizarding issue as of yet, so it's up to us to determine what went on and whether to pass it on to the Muggle Police?'

'Seriously, though, _pink?_'

Harry finally looked at Ron at huffed.

'Will you shut up about the bloody parchment colour!'

Ron looked at Harry and smirked.

'Yes, I do think it's something for us to determine whether it's Magical, and if it is, pass it on to the people oh-so-much higher than us, and then do the same with the next case they throw at us. Literally. Where does it say the body was found?'

'Somewhere in Haltwhistle, Northumberland.'

'You know, when Wizards are involved, the place of the body could be totally random.'

'True, but if Wizards aren't involved then it's pretty relevant, or if it is a Magical death then clues could be left because of patterns and where subsequent bodies may or not be found.'

'_Subsequent bodies?_ Mate, we've got _one_ picture of _one_ person and you've already got them pegged as the first victim of a serial killer! You've been watching too much of that programme Hermione watches, NCSTUVWX… or whatever it's called.'

Ron felt a folder hit the back of his head and he chuckled in response.

'For your information, Auror Weasley, I am not taking inspiration from a television programme!'

'Yeah, yeah!' He saw Harry was about to argue so carried on before he had the chance. 'So, do we start on this case or do we wait until one of our four bosses tells us to do something about it. I don't know about you, but I have another five case files on my desk which I was reading when I was rudely interrupted by flying pink parchment, all of which involving varying degrees of Dark Activity.'

'I think we should leave it for now until instructed to start work on it. If it had been that urgent I think we would have been briefed a little more thoroughly, don't you?'

'Yeah, good plan.'

Harry got off the desk and walked towards the door.

'Fancy a cuppa?' Ron asked, getting up off his chair.

Harry pulled up his sleeve and checked his watch.

'It's eighteen minutes past nine!'

'Your point?'

'That was it!' Harry exclaimed loudly.

'Perfect time for a cup of tea!'

'You say that every time you want a drink.'

'How am I wrong, then?'

Harry rolled his eyes and walked through to his own office.

'I take it you don't want one!' Ron called through after Harry.

'Two sugars, lots of milk,' Harry replied.

Ron laughed. 'Cheeky bugger.'

…

Jasper knocked on the door and for some reason he held his breath.

'Come in,' the voice inside the room said.

He decided it would be best to start breathing again. He reached for the handle of the door, noticed his hand was shaking slightly and opened the door.

'Hi!' he said, slightly breathless.

'Mm!' Hermione replied, her nose in her juice bottle, finishing her drink. She swallowed. 'Sorry about that. Hi! How are you?'

'Fine, thanks,' Jasper replied. 'Yourself?'

'Yeah, good. A bit wind swept, I didn't realise how windy it was outside, mind you that may have something to do with the magical windows!'

Jasper laughed out loud.

'Can't you switch them off, or something?' he asked, looking at the windows, trying to find the visual disturbances that showed there was magic around.

'Probably, but I don't want to annoy the people who's job it is, it being their job and all. I Really can't be bothered with the hassle.'

'Hard morning?'

Hermione pulled her face.

'Not hard as such, just a bit…exasperating I suppose. Having an assistant would help a lot! Which, neatly brings me on to why you're here.'

She smiled at him and he tried not to get his hopes up too much. He'd prefer her to just tell him he didn't have the job but thank you anyway, than be nice to him and then tell him he didn't have the job.

He nodded politely, unable to say anything.

'Right, well, lets get all the official stuff out of the way, shall we?'

It was a rhetorical question and he knew it.

'Obviously I've gone through your history with you so I don't have to do that again, so, now we have the results of the search for your family. I'm sure you already know…' she paused, searching for the file in the large pile on her desk.

Jasper failed to suppress a small sigh of disappointment, he knew that Hermione was going to list reason after criminal reason why he couldn't work for the Ministry of Magic. His heart sank and then his frustration at himself for getting his hopes up for a job he knew he had no hope of getting turned into anger. He scowled.

'…that there was nothing major to find, your twin brother seems to have been drunk a couple of times and needed to sleep the experience off in a cell over night, but apart from that, there's nothing of concern. Your family officially passed, I'm not going to hold your brother getting rat-arsed-' she stopped and looked at Jasper, and pulled her face at her use of language. 'Sorry, that's one of my fiancé's favourite phrase, unfortunately it seems to have seeped into my vocabulary!'

Jasper was having trouble understanding what she had said about the search results. How come none of his brother's major crimes had been found? Surely if they had found out about a couple of drunk and disorderly charges they'd have found out about the violence, the drugs and the illegal moneymaking? He was very confused.

He realised Hermione was waiting for some kind of reaction to what she had just said, he vaguely remembered her saying something about bad language and pulled his face into a smile.

'You know I don't have an issue with – what can be considered to be – bad language.'

'No, living with Ron means I had to start to ignore it, it doesn't bother me but every time I swear I see my Dad's disapproving glare at me!'

Jasper genuinely smiled this time.

'Anyway, sorry, I got distracted. Basically every search that had to be done came back clear, or near enough and for minor offences that came up, like your brother's, it's up to me whether I make them an issue. I'm not going to make them an issue unless I'm presented with any other evidence to show that they should be an issue, so, yet again, the final decision is down to me as to whether I hire you, or not.'

Jasper held his breath. His conscious was waging a private battle. Should he own up to his brother's illegal activity and, therefore, put any hope of getting this job to bed with it, or should he keep quiet? After a few agonising seconds of trying to make a decision, he decided to keep quiet. It wasn't his fault if the searches hadn't found anything.

Maybe he had always just presumed that his brother had been charged and found guilty of the crimes he had been questioned about – he really didn't ask him how things had gone very often, if he was honest with himself he had bigger things to worry about.

Himself, and trying to get a decent job, for example.

'You were the best at interview, when you relaxed a little, and you seem to really want the job, so I'd like to offer you a six week trial. If, at the end of the six weeks, I'm happy with how we work together, and you're happy with the job and what you're doing then I'll offer you a permanent contract, reviewable annually. If, however, you're not happy after the six weeks, then you can leave with no hard feelings and six weeks Ministry experience. Does that sound all right with you?''

Jasper grinned. 'Yeah! Of course it does! It's sounds excellent! I... thank you! Thanks!'

Hermione smiled. 'You're welcome. I hope you enjoy working here!'

'I'm sure I will! Is there anything else you need me to do or need to know?'

'There's one more form to fill in, I'm afraid, but it's nothing too serious - just one for me to keep on file in case of emergency, contact information, allergies you might have etc. Anything I might need to know in case you keel over one day, although if you could avoid doing that it would be much appreciated!'

Jasper laughed. 'I'll try.'

He took the form from Hermione.

'Do you want me to fill this in now?' He started rummaging for a pen in his robes. He grabbed at what he thought was a pen but brought out a blunt and battered pencil.

Hermione smiled and handed him her pen. Jasper grinned.

'Not a fan of quills then?' he asked as he started to fill out his name on the form.

Hermione smiled. 'It's not that I'm not a fan, they're really nice to write with when you have the time to write slowly and neatly, but if you're just scribbling notes down or cross referencing things and putting the thing down and getting ink everywhere, they're just not as practical as Muggle pens. Not to mention the amount of ink that gets all over your fingers. I swear, during my time of school, I'd say about 90% of the time the fingers on my right hand were blue or black!'

Jasper nodded in agreement. 'Yeah, I'm the same, always use a Muggle pen instead of a quill, or battered pencils apparently!'

He continued filling out the form. He didn't have any medical allergies - normal or magical to report, and considering he'd only recently moved out of his mum and dad's house, he still knew their address so the Next of Kin information was easy enough to fill in.

He handed Hermione back the form and she added it to a brand new and very empty folder.

'Right, well, I suppose the only thing left to sort out is your start date. Do you know when can you start? Do you have to give notice to anyone?'

'Let's see,' Jasper said with a smile, he thought for a moment, 'yep, I can definitely start on Thursday.'

'Thursday? _This_ Thursday?' Hermione asked, obviously surprised. 'But what about your other job?'

'My other job consists of me working behind the bar of a pub which is run by the most oblivious man in the entire country. I swear, every time I go to him for my wage at the end of each week, he looks confused as hell and I have to remind him that I do actually work for him and that he owes me a week's wage. I think the only reason he actually gives me the money is because he doesn't think someone would go to he trouble of filling in a time sheet just to steal off him. I'm working tonight and tomorrow during the day, and if he's short staffed I'll tell him I can work the late shift on Friday, I'll have to go in to get my final wage anyway, but, really, I can start full time Thursday if you want, or we can make it a nice fresh start on Monday if that's easier for you.'

Hermione shook her head in a disbelieving way at Jasper's story, but smiled nonetheless.

'How about you do half days on Thursday and Friday and I can show you around the building, the offices, let you meet mine and your various bosses who go up through the ranks, and I can give you all your official documentation too. That way on Monday you're ready to start and we don't have to lose a day doing all that I just said. Also, if you do have to work Friday night then you're not exhausted after a full day here.'

Jasper nodded enthusiastically. 'Sounds great. If you need me for any more information then you have my mobile number, that's if I haven't got angry with it and caused it to die, yet again. My flat's on the floo and I have no aversions to owls, so, contact me any time.'

'Yep, I said the exact same thing when I started, now people know not to contact me on a weekend unless it's a dire emergency. I give you four weeks before your enthusiasm dies a long and slow death. Hang on, I need to stop talking or you're going to change your mind about taking this job!'

Jasper laughed. 'Nah, believe me, this is going to be a good thing for me, I just hope I don't mess anything up.'

'Well,' Hermione said, standing from her chair, 'as long as you get to know how I like my coffee pretty quickly then I think we'll be okay.'

'And you like your coffee...' Jasper asked as he stood from his chair

'Milk with two sugars...except when I'm at my parents' house. They're dentists and don't believe in sugar. Personally I blame Ron for my newly acquired sweet tooth, but I don't tell him that!'

'Okay! Coffee type noted and should your parents ever visit you at work I will never mention the sugar!'

Hermione extended her hand and Jasper shook it.

'I look forward to working with you, Jasper.'

'You too, Hermione... Are you sure it's okay me calling you that and not Miss Granger?'

Hermione opened her door. 'Believe me, Hermione is fine, unless of course you would like me to address you as Mister Mills?'

Jasper laughed. 'Nope, Mister Mills is my Dad, I'm not old enough to be Mister Mills yet!'

Hermione grinned. 'I'll see you on Thursday at nine then, Jasper.'

'Yeah, see you then, and thanks for this, you have no idea how much this job means to me.'

'You're welcome.'

Jasper headed out the door and down the corridor, he managed to round the corner before jumping and punching the air in happiness. A couple of people gave him a strange look as they passed him, but Jasper didn't care. He had a job working at the Ministry of Magic! This was the beginning of his better life, one he'd had planned for a while. Nothing was going to stop him doing what he wanted now.

Nothing at all.


	8. 8: Reviewing the Past

**Chapter 8 Reviewing the Past**

_POTTER VICTORIOUS, THE DARK LORD IS DEAD!_

_In extraordinary events that took place late last night and early this morning, Harry Potter has done what many believed he was destined to do and has defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, formally known as Tom Marvolo Riddle._

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was the scene for the events after He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named arrived at the school and demanded Harry Potter be brought to him. The battle raged for hours before He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named gave Potter an ultimatum: go and face him, or watch as he killed his friends and supporters._

_In this special edition of the Daily Prophet we reveal every detail of what happened last night and how He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was finally beaten, along with interviews with the survivors and tributes to those who died fighting protecting the school and a way of life. See contents for full details._

She turned the page of the newspaper and saw the moving images of people looking devastated, lost and broken.

She turned more of the pages, glimpsing at photographs and headlines, taking in the odd word that was printed. The names Potter, Weasley and Granger caught her eye the most, but that might have been because she had trained herself to find them faster than normal, it helped when scouring newspaper after newspaper for information.

Not that there had been much news on the three of them over the past few years. After the war she couldn't pick up a newspaper without someone having written an article about one of them or the people they were close to. Every time she had read one of the names a jolt of anger had seared through her. It didn't happen any more, her initial rage and anger had died down, but had been replaced by a cool desire for revenge and a meticulous plan.

She turned to the back half of the large publication to the page titled 'Obituaries'. The section was the biggest in the paper. Every person who had died fighting against The Dark Lord and his supporters were each given an in depth biography and details of their contribution to the war effort and the Final Battle at Hogwarts. She looked down the page and saw the photographs she had seen so often, once again.

Ministry Aurors adorned the top half of the first page, Nymphadora Tonks' picture being the most eye-catching and bright, and then the bottom half showed those members of The Order of the Phoenix that had died.

The pages after continued with the names and photographs of students, teachers and residents of Hogsmeade who had joined the fray, but hadn't survived the fighting.

She turned the page again, and, as it did every single time she looked at this page, her stomach turned and her heart started to beat faster.

Her eyes dropped to the bottom half of the page. The paper was crinkled where her tears had landed and damaged the parchment and the ink was smudged too.

She didn't read the title anymore, because she knew that it said _'Death Eaters Killed'._ That was it, no explanation on how each one died, whether they gave their lives for another or were fighting for what they believed was right. Just a list of the dead. No dignity. Nothing but a name.

Her eyes settled on the second name on the list, which she had learned by heart. The name was so familiar, yet in a way, she was only just getting used to it. She traced the name with her finger and took a deep, shaky breath.

'I won't fail you. I promise.'

…

'RON! Where's- Ahhh! Merlin! Okay, OWW!'

Hermione simultaneously rubbed her left shoulder with her opposite hand and her right foot with her left, wobbling slightly as she tried to keep her balance.

'Jesus, Ron! When I ask you to tidy stuff I mean tidy it, not shove it in the cupboard I hardly go in so I won't notice you've _only done half a JOB!_'

'Huh?'

Ron poked his head around the door to the cupboard and looked a little confused.

'Don't worry yourself, _my love_, I've only nearly decapitated myself with the box that was precariously balanced on the top shelf in here, you carry on with what you were doing!'

'Huh? Okay!'

He disappeared from sight.

'Ronald! _Get your arse back here now!'_

He reappeared

'But you just said-'

'I didn't mean it! I was being sarcastic! Why the hell is there this much rubbish in here?'

'It's not rubbish! It's… it's… stuff!'

She raised an eyebrow at him.

'Okay, fine, but when have I had the time to sort through it?' Ron asked.

'What exactly were you doing before you came in here?'

Ron scuffed his foot along the metal carpet covering.

'lisnintquidditch…'

Hermione nodded and turned back to the cupboard.

'Magically clearing it would be better than nothing!' She turned around to see Ron's face lighten up. 'Until you have time to clean it properly, of course.'

His face fell again.

'Fine!'

'If you could pick up whatever nearly decapitated me, it would be much appreciated.'

She turned and directed her attention back to looking for what she went in the cupboard for in the first place for: the strong magical stain remover only brought out when cleaning spells failed her. She had no idea what Crookshanks had rolled in and then proceeded to wipe all over the lounge room floor, and, quite frankly, she didn't want to know, but she had to remove it nonetheless.

She stood on a large trunk and reached to the very top shelf and got a hold on the metal container and then, with a release of breath which she had been holding while she stretched, she landed heavily back on the floor. She turned around, expecting Ron to laugh at her for either the way she struggled, or for not using magic to summon what she wanted, but he wasn't there.

She walked through to the kitchen, cleaner in hand, and found Ron sat at the kitchen table with the box, which had nearly knocked her out earlier.

She sat down opposite him, and looked at the things he had pulled out, there was a smaller, metallic box, a file full of newspaper clippings, two official scrolls, a couple of scruffy pieces of parchment and two velvet covered boxes.

'So, it's this that nearly killed me-.'

Her head dropped at what she had said without thinking, but Ron smiled and took her hand in this.

'Well, you never know, these Horcruxes,' he picked up the metallic tin, 'might still be trying to do us in even years later!' Ron said through a chuckle.

She laughed. 'Yeah, maybe!'

She took the tin from Ron and heard the Horcruxes clunk around, even though they were in a cloth bag inside the tin. If you asked her why they had kept them, she wouldn't have been able to give you a straight answer, but when Harry had presented both Ron and Hermione with the mangled metal objects that they had each destroyed, they didn't scoff at him or throw them away in fear of the memories they brought with them, they just took the one they destroyed and hid them away from prying eyes.

She didn't think at all that they still had homicidal qualities about them, but they still kept them hidden from sight, it was hardly something she wanted to talk about over dinner, and some things she just didn't want to think about.

'You know,' Ron started, unfolding the first edition of _The Prophet_ printed after the Final Battle_,_ 'do you ever think back on the stuff we did and not believe any of it?'

Hermione smiled.

'When I do think about it all, I sometimes have trouble getting my head round some of the things we had to do, even if I was involved in it all.'

Ron looked back in the box.

'How come we have five copies of the paper?' he asked.

'Oh, well, I thought that if people threw theirs out because they couldn't bear to look at it then they might want to in the future, hence the spares. George specifically asked me to keep one for him. You know he got rid of everything – newspaper clippings, Order reports he and Fred had kept, but he knew he'd want to look at this one day, or maybe show any kids he might have, so asked me to keep one for him.'

Ron nodded and smiled.

Hermione reached for the paper and looked at the front page. There was one larger picture with a few more underneath it. She looked at the main picture, which showed Kingsley Shacklebolt reading from a scroll of parchment and Harry, Ron and Hermione stood behind and to the right of him. The three of them looked reluctant to be there, as they kept looking at the floor and muttering between themselves.

She flicked through the pages, briefly reading the odd snippet of information and then stopped when she got to the obituaries page.

'I can't remember who wrote Fred's obituary. Was it your dad?'

Ron shook his head. 'Nah, George wanted to do it, well I think he felt he needed to, whether he wanted to is another thing entirely. The Prophet said they'd do it if we didn't feel we could, but that wasn't going to happen. To be honest, I think the both of them had written something down, just in case.'

Hermione's eyes flickered to the box and her gaze landed on the two crumpled pieces of parchment in the box. When they had reached Hogwarts and the Room of Requirement, and before Ron had realised they could use the Basilisk Fangs as a way to destroy the remaining Horcruxes, Hermione had hidden herself in the corner of the room for a couple of minutes and hastily written a note to Ron.

Tears had filled her eyes as she had written it, and she could feel her eyes burning with tears as she remembered choosing the words carefully, but also, essentially, saying her goodbyes to the people she loved.

She snapped out of her thoughts when Ron squeezed her hand.

'I'll put all this away, shall I? These aren't the best things to look at of an evening.'

Hermione nodded. Ron started to put the rest of the objects in the box while Hermione flicked through the last few pages of the paper. At the end of the obituaries the list of the dead Death Eaters and known Dark Lord supporters were listed.

She read the first name on the list: Tom Marvolo Riddle. A sense of calm washed over her. Sometimes just reading it in black and white was enough to calm her and reassure her everything they did was for a reason. At the second name, memories of excruciating pain and a sense of losing her mind washed over her, and the calm she had felt a few seconds earlier died.

Never before nor since had she felt pain like that.

_'Answer me! CRUCIO!'_

It had taken every ounce of courage she possessed to not scream out the answers she wanted to hear. She nearly gave in, nearly said everything she knew about the sword of Gryffindor. But then she heard him. Heard him screaming her name and she remembered how he had come back to her and searched for them until he had found them again. She would hold on for him, and show the courage he had shown.

Bellatrix Lestrange was not going to beat her.

No one with the name Lestrange was going to hurt her again.

…

Anger surged through her. Jonathan had sent her a rather brief but to the point note.

She mentally chastised herself; _this is what you get for hiring thugs who have no idea about _anything!

They were going to pay for this. _It could jeopardise everything!_

Everything she had planned could dissolve any minute.

They were going to pay for their stupidity, of this she was certain.


	9. 9: Setbacks and Steps Forward

**Chapter 9**

She clutched the short piece of parchment in her hand as she marched through the house. The owl had just arrived and had quickly left after she had screamed in anger at the news it had brought.

She made her way down the main staircase and turned left. Her boots thudded heavily on the hard wood flooring in the reception room – or the small lounge as she had always known it as.

She exited the room through a small, heavy door and took the very worn, concrete stairs down to the kitchens. A lone elf scuttled around the large room, preparing that morning's breakfast.

'M…Miss Siona! I wasn't expecting…is everything okay, Miss?'

'Carry on, Pickles, my venture down here has nothing to do with you!'

She raised her wand when she reached the other end of the kitchen and it banged open, cutting through Pickles' 'Yes, Miss. Of course, Miss.' Down more steps she went, the lanterns lighting as she approached them and extinguishing behind her. She could see the bottom of the steps, striped from the large cell door at the bottom. She put her wand tip in the single hole on the large lock and said 'in the name of honour and justice'.

The heavy door swung away from her and she strode forwards as soon as she could fit through the gap.

There were two of the men she had hired for doing her dirty work sitting on either side of the battered and candle-burned table. There were two goblets and a tankard of something smoking in the middle of the table. One of the men had propped his feet on the edge and was leaning back in his chair. His hair was shaved very close to his head, Siona wondered why he bothered keeping the couple of millimetres of hair there, being blond you could barely see it.

As the heavy iron door slammed behind her, both men jumped in their seats. The blond with his feet up quickly replaced his feet on the floor and brushed the mud off the table that had fallen off his boots. The other man who, like his fellow colleague had short hair, but still had some length to it, merely looked up at Siona and then went back to reading the paper.

She walked up to the table and slammed her hand on the table top, the piece of parchment underneath her slightly shaking fingers. She withdrew her hand and looked from one man to the other. She was glad to see that she had grabbed their attention with her action.

'Read it,' she snarled through gritted teeth.

After a few seconds of them just glancing between her and the parchment the darker haired man reached forwards and took the parchment off the table.

Siona stared through the bars that stood six feet from the far wall and kept her eyes on one spot of blood on the stone waiting for a reaction from one or both of the men.

She heard a hiss of disappointment, or fear, she wasn't sure which and then through her peripheral vision she saw him push the parchment across the table and the blond man take it and read it.

When he, too, had sighed and replaced the parchment on the table she gave them a few seconds to start talking. They didn't.

'Explain how our test subject was discovered by IMuggles/I and then how the case was passed on to the IAuror Department/I. Quickly.'

She heard them shuffle in their seats, neither of them giving up the information she wanted.

'IQuicker!/I' she whispered, her voice barely audible.

'Erm. Well… there were… complications, when we were… disposing of the body…'

'What type of complications?'

'We were… disturbed… while trying to get rid of the tattoo on his chest, but-'

'Where were you when you were doing this?' Siona Snapped, still staring at the wall in front of her.

'B'hindpub.'

She looked down at the blond who had just spoken.

'I'm sorry, what?'

'We were behind the pub in Knockturn Alley.'

He had chanced a small glimpse at Siona and instantly looked down back down at the table.

'You were behind the pub in Knockturn Alley dealing with the dead body we had used to experiment on. Which, should it be found, could – if the Auror department decide to look too closely into this case – incriminate us all and more importantly, scupper the plans I have been working for a year to put into motion.'

Neither of the men moved or dared to look at her.

'That is correct, yes?' she said, her voice as quiet as it could be before becoming a whisper.

The blond nodded.

'I see.' She closed her eyes and took a step back from the table. Still with her eyes closed she took a deep breath and removed her wand from her robes. She opened her eyes and was pleased to see that the two men were looking terrified.

'Needless to say I am Idispleased/I with the situation and you shall be punished for your lack of commitment to my cause. IImperio!/I

The brown haired man looked momentarily relieved that he hadn't been the one who had been cursed, but his relief soon died.

'Kill him.' The demand was short and direct and the blond wizard stood immediately. 'And if you can manage to kill yourself in the process, it'll leave me with less dirty work to do.'

Siona turned on her heal, smirking at her last comment and let the shouts, screams and thuds wash over her as she climbed the stairs to the kitchen.

Her thoughts ran to her new predicament: she needed to replace those she had just left. This time however, she would take longer finding them, incidents like the one Jonathan had told her about couldn't happen again.

There was too much at stake.

…oooOOOooo…

Hermione stared at the very large pile of paperwork on her desk and sighed. It wasn't as if she was behind with it at all, it was just that most of the pile were her notes and she needed to find space for them. Initially she put all her notes in with the case notes of the relevant case file, but then she ran out of room very quickly in her filing cabinet and was politely told that the Ministry wouldn't get her another cabinet and that maybe she was hoarding irrelevant material and should go through all the case notes she had and sort them out.

She had nodded and realised that she probably was hoarding unnecessary material, but thought that just because it wasn't needed in the legal side of things, she may at one point in the future want to reference her musings and workings.

She had bought herself a simple plastic box and had bundled her notes into 'similar case' piles and shrunk them down so they fit in the palm of her hand. Eight months worth of notes were neatly stacked in the box with room for the same amount again. Perfect.

Except when she went to retrieve them a month later, enlarged them and realised – to her horror – that the ink had disintegrated and had become illegible. She was reminded of when her dad tried to print an image he had found off the internet at A4 size and wondered why it had come out all fuzzy. It was like all her writing had been reduced to 72 dots per inch.

Needless to say all her notes were ruined and the only comfort she had was that they weren't Inecessary/I to her cases and that she had probably made a very thorough mental note of anything major that should help her in the future. But it was only a small comfort and she had to try very hard to not burst into tears in her office. She knew it was ridiculously irrational, but that didn't stop her being upset by the whole experience.

So she had bought herself a very sturdy, very Muggle, very fire, water, acid, punch and any other type of 'proof' it could be, filing cabinet, which she then put a disillusionment charm on, to stop people questioning why she had an extra-to-the-Ministry-Office-Standard furniture in her little office. Probably unnecessary, but she didn't want to be seen as a hoarder who thought her words on parchment more important than anything.

The problem, of course, that she was faced with as she slumped in her very comfy office chair was that she had to file it all. This was one of the many reasons why she had interviewed for an assistant. Officially her new assistant was to help her organise her case files, make her appointments for her and juggle her professional diary, accompany her to court, answer her mail (owl, memos and interdepartmental), make sure she wasn't disturbed when she was busy and generally act as a buffer for the things that she didn't have time to deal with. She was worried that she would become dependent on having someone working for her as she had seen some of her colleagues become incredibly lazy once they had an assistant working for them, making them do every little tiny thing that would only take them thirty seconds to complete, but there was one reason why she looking forward to having an assistant: her precious notes would have someone to look after them and file them away properly when she was finished with them.

Once she had taught them her rather bizarre but familiar-to-her filing system.

Jasper was going to have an interesting first day.

…oooOOOooo…

'Oh holy…! Ah fuck! Shitting bastard wanker! Ow!'

'Um, you okay there, Jack?'

Jasper couldn't help be a little proud and amused that he had just floored his big brother with one punch to the chest. He hadn't even hit him that hard but Jack had hit the ground like a lead balloon and was now on his hands and knees rubbing his chest.

'Abso…lutely…fine… Why do you ask?' Jack looked up at him and smiled in a forced way that looked like a grimace. Jasper laughed out loud and held his hand out to his brother. Jack took it and winced as he stood. He brushed the dust off his black uniform and tightened the knot on his purple, silk belt. He rubbed his chest once more and took a deep breath before sliding his right foot backwards, lowering his chin slightly and bringing his hands up into the guard position.

'You sure you're okay? You hit the floor pretty hard there.'

'I'd be convinced of your concern if you weren't grinning like a loon!' Jack retorted, managing a genuine smile.

'I'm concerned, I am! I'm just rather pleased with that punch, that's all.'

Jack shrugged. 'Fair enough. I would be, too. But really, I'm fine. Shall we start again?'

They fought for another three minutes, kicking, punching, evading, striking and grappling.

'Thirty seconds before warm down! Try to take your partner down!' their instructor shouted from across the gym.

Taking advantage of Jasper's momentary distraction, Jack put his weight on his right foot and spun around to the left, bringing his leg in towards his body and then extending it towards Jasper's hip. At the last second Jasper realised where Jack was aiming for and managed to move a couple of inches to his right so Jack only scuffed his side. Jasper grabbed hold of Jack's knee with his left hand and pulled his leg towards him throwing Jack off balance, Jasper, still holding jack's leg swung his right arm behind him and brought the side of his hand down towards Jack's neck. Knowing this one of his brother's favourite strikes Jack was ready for it and blocked it with his left forearm and swung his arm around so Jaspers hand was trapped between his Chest and his arm. In a second's madness, knowing he was pretty vulnerable in his position, Jack bent his right knee and jumped, managing to hook his right foot behind Jasper's left knee which bent forwards as Jack had hoped. They went crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

'Bloody hell! I didn't expect that to work!'

They untangled their legs and sat up, Jack grinning and Jasper looking rather confused.

'What the hell did you do then?' Jasper exclaimed, put out that his brother had managed to floor him instead of it being the other way around.

'Honestly? I have no idea, let's put it down to a moment of madness induced genius!'

'Oh, well if there was no actual skill involved then that's fine! I don't mind being brought down by a fluke!'

'Fluke my arse! I brought you down last week as well, remember?'

'How can I forget when you remind me every time I see you!'

'LINE UP!' the instructor barked. Jasper and Jack took their places in the line that was forming and stood to attention.

'Standard footwork drills, one minute each, starting now!'

Jasper started jogging on the spot, bringing his knees high and trying to keep his breathing steady. He remembered how unfit he was when he started learning martial arts. Thirty seconds of jogging on the spot had him gasping for breath and barely able to stand. He didn't used to smoke a great deal, mainly socially and when he had been drinking, but after the first lesson when he felt awful after only two hours exercise, he decided to quit there and then.

Their session ended and they all filed out the gym towards the showers. Jasper and Jack walked to their lockers and piled their bags onto the bench behind them. Jasper found his towel and shower gel and set off towards the shower cubicles.

'Oi! Jas! I'm making a quick getaway, I have much work to get finished before tomorrow.'

'Oh! Okay then! Will I see you this weekend? Is Mum demanding our presence on Sunday?'

'I've heard some mumblings about another wonderful everyone-must-be-there-on-pain-of-death dinner, but I'm sure she'll let you know. If not, good luck for Monday. I know you're doing bits tomorrow and Friday but it doesn't really count. And I'll say this so to not embarrass you on Sunday, but I'm proud of you Jas. You sorted yourself out and got things together. You have a very stark example of what things could have been in John, just try not to fuck things up, yeah?'

'Aww, Jack, I'm touched, and I'll try my hardest not to fuck things up, promise.'

Jack smiled. 'Good, I'll see you Sunday if Mum decides to inflict pain on us, if not, I'll see you when I see you!'

Jack pulled his bag onto his back and started walking to the door.

'Yeah, see you soon.'

Jasper turned and walked to the shower cubicle. He threw his towel over the door and set the shower going. He turned it to as cold as was possible and stood for two minutes under the cold water. Not as extreme as an ice bath, but for him, just as effective if his warm down wasn't quite up to scratch, he revelled in his shivers and the tightness in his muscles. Just before his shivers turned violent, he turned the water to warm and quickly showered. He felt along his chin and made a mental note to shave before he arrived at the Ministry tomorrow. He already had three things in his mental list: iron his smartest robes, find a half decent notepad and pen – preferably one with no obscene doodles or messages on, and to find his Wizarding passport.

He quickly dried himself, dressed and made his way out of the leisure centre. He ducked around the back and made his way down the alleyway between the centre and the Indian restaurant behind it. Making sure no one was looking, he turned on the spot and appeared in his living room.

To find his twin brother battered, bruised and bleeding on his couch.

* * *

_**A/N:** Please excuse the Graphic Designer her 72dpi reference. Ta ;)_


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